


No, This Is How You Kill A Megatron

by Fierceawakening



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 15:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: Not a big fan of the deaths I'm seeing for this guy lately and how much they leave unresolved. So I went back to what I loved about G1 and wrote my own. No one gets to kill Megatron but Starscream, dammit, and this is what happens when he does.





	No, This Is How You Kill A Megatron

“Megatron has fallen!”

He doubled over, his spark pulsing too raggedly. He clutched at the wound and balled his hand into a fist as though he could close it himself. But his own energon was warm and slick against his curled fingers and static fizzed in the corners of his vision.

There was pain, but he could ignore that. He lifted his head and looked at Starscream, who stood in front of him, preening and spreading out his wings—and then looked down at him and stopped, his optics wide.

Megatron smiled, a little sad and a little bitter. He had to admit that Starscream had been clever. This was a battle, all smoke and chaos and wounds and, yes, sometimes deaths. No one would know for sure that Starscream had seized the moment. They might suspect it, but they'd never know for sure. And Starscream was young and clever and ruthless. Anyone who was too certain or too loud about it would die anyway.

But Starscream was lowering himself down beside him, his knees falling heavily into the dirt, his wings clicking in concern. “Megatron—“

“Get up,” Megatron ground out. “You idiot.”

Starscream stared at him. His mouth plates moved, but no words came out, only a high whine, like too many gears ground together too hard.

Lights flickered in his vision. “You fool. At this rate you’ll drop your knife, and everyone will see it.”

“I can’t—“ Starscream was saying. His hands touched Megatron’s plating, blind and desperate. “I didn’t mean—!“

Another stab of pain that set things flickering. Megatron ground his lip plates together just to feel something else and looked up.

“I don’t want this,” Starscream said, his voice quiet and raw.

Megatron reached out and cupped his hand over Starscream’s chin. The rest of the Decepticons, scattered but regrouping, could all see, even if they couldn’t hear. Which meant they knew.

Which meant Starscream had blown his own cover. But there was only so much you could teach a fool, even a clever and deadly one.

“Look at me, Starscream.”

The optics that turned to him were wide and desperate and far too eager to obey. His spark pulsed, hard, and it hurt worse than his wound.

But he smiled and traced his thumb over Starscream’s lips.

“You’re ready now,” he said.

Starscream tried to shake his head. Megatron tightened his grip. And overshot—Starscream’s optics flickered with pain and Megatron felt the thin chiseled metal of his chin start to give. But that didn’t matter either.

“You are. And I am proud of you.”

“No. Stop. You don’t—you don’t have to—“

“It’s not a lie,” Megatron said, staring at Starscream, fixing the image in his vision as the static overtook him. “I always was.”

###

They stared at Starscream in silence, waiting.

He flicked his wings. There was no time. The enemy would regroup soon enough. Or come back soon enough, if they’d figured out what happened and decided to give him a moment to collect himself.

If they had, he hated them for it. The last thing he needed was their kindness.

He had to think of something. Had to make a decision, give an order. He knew that. But he felt empty and hollow, so empty and hollow he couldn’t think. He’d tucked away his knife, more because Megatron had ordered him to do it than anything else. It was still sticky with drying energon. He could feel it, nestled up and tucked away in his own frame. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to dry or cling to his insides forever.

_Did you ever feel like this? How did you go on?_

_How do you expect me to go on without you? You were supposed to live!_

He’d thought Soundwave might break the silence. Some report on the enemy’s motions. Some recommended strategy, if he was lucky.

It was Rumble, instead, restless and anxious at his feet.

“Uh, Comman—uh, Lord—er, Starscream. What do we do now?”

Starscream raised his head and looked out over the battlefield. _His_ battlefield, now.

Their enemies hadn’t done this. Their war hadn't done this. Even if Megatron had gone along with the pretense. But they were still the enemy, and all the long eons of war had set all this in motion. Had brought him to this.

Had offered him this moment, a poison promise. One he had finally chosen to take. One whose consequences he’d seen at last, and couldn’t run from.

_Is that what made you say I’m ready? Is that what you had, for all those years, and I did not?_

He spread his wings out high and proud behind him and smiled, a hard curling smirk.

“We go after them and kill them,” he said at last.

He clenched his hand into a fist, hard enough to hurt. “We kill them all.”


End file.
